Looking For Mr Right?
by Emma-MasenCullen
Summary: Bella has had enough of men, forever abusing, using and being disappointed by them. This is her thoughts on love, relationships and men. For anyone who has been treated badly by love or just likes angsty fics. B/E B/Jake B/OC


**(A/N: Right, this is a little story based upon Bella's experience in New Moon and my own personal experiences. It is an angsty fic instead of a romance like I usually write but events that have recently occurred have shattered my heart so everything I write at the moment is angsty and depressing…it'll soon pass hopefully but anyway here is mine and Bella's story.)**

Looking For Mr Right?

Eternity.

Just saying it gives me goose-bumps. It sounds so long, such a long time. But truthfully, it's just a word, nothing more, nothing less. It means nothing. That's what he said to me. That he would love me for eternity, what a lie. He said that he would but he lied, about everything. He told me he loved me, how can he love me if he left me, alone? How could he love me if he left me and I had to protect myself from Nomadic vampires? How could he love me when he knew I was going through a very serious spell of chronic depression and yet still not return?

Because he lied that's why. He lied about loving me. I can see now that he never did. I knew then that it was too good to be true. How could someone like him, a gorgeous, dashing, charming, intelligent man, love someone like me, a clumsy, nerdy, ridiculous girl? Impossible, truly impossible. He just wanted to use me, no wonder he always sounded like he was about to leave, he probably couldn't stand the sight of me.

And if he lied about loving me, he must have lied about caring. Naturally one occurs with the other. If he cared he would have stayed, or at least come back when he saw my suffering. If he cared he wouldn't have put me through any of this, he would have just broken it off if he wasn't happy, he didn't have to leave. If he cared he wouldn't have left me to fend for myself when he knew some revenge-seeking, blood-lusting Nomadic vampires we going to come after me.

If is such an important word. My life would be so much better _if _I had never met him. Nothing ever hurt like him. He turned my life around only for the better than proceeded to destroy everything he had created and everything that was there is the first place. It was when I had finally given up on him, when I finally realised that it wasn't me who wasn't good enough, it was him, that he was just a player, a user and a disappointment, that I realised that I did in fact love someone else. Jacob. And I chose my Sun instead of my Forever…Forever doesn't matter if the person you're sharing it with doesn't love you.

So, for once in my life I was loved, actually appreciated and cared for. And I loved him back and it was surprisingly easy to love him. It was surprising easy to give him everything I have, my heart, my soul, my life. He became my life. I would do absolutely anything for him, give him all he wanted, get whatever he asked for, I'd die for him.

We had a blissful month with Jake. We didn't get to spend much time together, one or the other of us was nearly always busy, but we talked on the phone a lot, and we both wished we could be with each other more often. But, the time we did spend together was the most magical time I spent with anyone. He usually came over at the weekend; we'd sit in my room and talk about anything, everything. We'd have pillows fights, and he'd nearly always win, mainly because I let him, he used to make fun of me for my height, I'm only 5'4" where he's 6'7", I didn't minded it much, I thought I was quite funny, I made out that I minded and he thought it was amusing that I cared so much about it.

I remember our first kiss. I was so afraid to kiss him; I know I can kiss, naturally I kissed _him_, but I hadn't kissed a person in a while, and I was so nervous. I didn't know how to even start. I remember he was lying on my bed looking up at me as I was looking down at him. We were talking a something, I can't remember what the subject it was, but I gradually closed the distance so my face was only inches from him before I told him that I loved him and kissed him. I think I surprised him but he kissed me back so it was a good sign. He did nothing but smile after and to be honest, neither did I.

But like all good things, it came to an end, but I didn't want it to, I never wanted it to end. He told me that he just wanted to go back to being friends, back to being best friends because he was afraid that if we broke up in the future, that he would loose me completely, whereas now he wouldn't. I pleaded and pleaded for him to change his mind, I knew it wasn't what he wanted, just the other day we had another evening of pure bliss and I knew his feelings hadn't changed, he had loved me for too long and waited for me for so long to let it go now and yet he was. I continued to plead and ask him why he would, why he couldn't change his mind. All he ever said was that he couldn't, with no other reason why, just he couldn't.

He broke my heart that day; I curled up in my bed, crying myself to sleep. What makes it worse is I didn't have the time to get over him, he still talked to me, trying to keep up this façade of us just being friends when we both knew that it wasn't what we wanted, that left alone we wouldn't be about to control our hearts, well I knew I wouldn't be able to. He changed though, seemed sadder, less himself, the little things I loved about him disappeared, like the hatred for me being older than him even though he was taller.

Every time he talked to me, my heart would swell, almost to the point of bursting. I was never sure if it was out of the love I felt for him or the heartache that he had caused me. I had to keep all my pain inside, he didn't want to hear it, he just asked me not to start. The pain grew worse and worse, I began almost unrecognisable, a zombie state. All I ever seemed to do was cry. Food had lost its taste. Colours seemed grey and faded. My passions, the things I was most passionate about, no longer mattered too me. The only thing I cared for, my only passion, the only light in my world was him. And even though he had tried to prevent it, in all honesty I had lost him.

Luckily, there was another friend to pick up the pieces of that disastrous, heart-breaking relationship. Matt. He sat in the table in front of me in Trig. I had never noticed him before until he lifted me off the floor, sitting me on a bench and handing me some tissue after another one of my crying episodes. He looked after me. It started out just talked to me in Trig, and then he used to make the effort to walk me to my next lesson. That progressed to sitting with at lunch, then picking me up for school, then we were inseparable. We did homework together, sat together, went to the cinema together. He was such a wonderful friend, he brought me from my dark mood and depressing ways to a happier Bella, somewhat like I used to be. I laughed more, I fun more often, I even talked more, much more than I used to. We went to the same college after Forks High, I never knew if he rigged that purposely so he could stay with me or whether it was just by chance. Although we had given lectors we spent the rest to the time together: parties, fresher's week, personal studies, just chilling, it was nice to have someone there who knew me well, I had someone to rely on.

Over the years, his friendship changed to love, although I never thought I'd love again. I could tell that his feelings had changed first; he always seemed to look uncomfortable but still smile, like he wanted to be doing something else with me than what we were doing. He grabbed hold of my hand more often and put his arm around my shoulders. And he spent a lot of time looking at me and in my eyes. Then, mine changed. I didn't even know it happened until I had kissed him and my heart went wild and I felt like I never wanted to let him go. We were a great team, a great match, and he was a great lover. We had similar interests, likes and dislikes so we never had to compromise for something one of us didn't like. He was smart, funny and he wasn't bad-looking either. He touched my life in many ways; he re-awoke my heart from pain and gave to something to have faith in. Our relationship was a happy one, we so much fun together; we did pretty much everything together, there wasn't much time when we were apart. I was happier in myself when I was with him and much happier with life, it didn't seem so depressing anymore, something that I didn't have to face alone.

He seemed to be my long-awaited happiness. Or so I thought. There was always this feeling I got when Matt didn't spend the day with me, like I knew deep down that something wasn't right. Matt wasn't a womanizer, he had always stayed faithful to me the two years we had been together, but most of his friends were of the fairer sex so I could never help but wonder. It was wrong of me I know, I never told him, but the feeling inside wouldn't go away.

Then the secrets came. It began by a simple "just a friend" when I asked him who was out with, I knew I had no right to know, but he usually told me anyway so I didn't think he'd mind, but he clearly did. The secrets got worse, and the lies began. It began with smalls lies, like we were supposed to be meeting for a romantic dinner and he never showed. He said that he had forgotten so he was finishing up an important college assignment. He lied about the people he was with, the places, and what he was doing.

One day, I was sitting in our college apartment; he had sent me a text that he was out with Rob and Dave, his best mates, watching a game of basketball and he would be back at 7pm so that we could go on out for a special surprise I had arranged for our 3 year anniversary. I felt a bit unsure about this; it was our 3 year anniversary, surely he would have wanted to spend the entire day with me and not just after 7pm. Then, at about 2pm there was a knock on my door. I wasn't excepting anyone expect Matt at 7 so I had know idea who it was. I opened the door to find standing in front of me was Rob and Dave. They asked me where Matt was, I told them I was going to ask them the very same question. Well, we had a conversation about what Matt had said and they confirmed that he was lying, that they had no idea he was meeting them. They also told me that he was getting a little "friendly" with a blonde in the bar the other day, and that he was getting quite friendly with this same blonde for a few weeks.

Matt arrived home at 7pm like we had planned to find, me, Rob and Dave sitting on the sofa. His face fell, he knew what was about to happen. I thanked the guys for staying with me; I could tell they wanted to leave before the chaos began. All I wanted to do was scream and scream and scream at him but I couldn't. I had no words to say to him, he wasn't worth the words. But then the screaming came. I screamed so much my throat burned with rage, the tears poured down my cheers at the realisation that he no longer loved me hit. I screamed at him for cheating, for using and abusing me, I screamed at him for his betrayal and making me a fool. I screamed that I no longer wanted him, that it was over between us, that I wanted him out of my life. Get out, get out was all I could say.

And eventually he did.

I wished he would have yelled. I wished he would have screamed and shouted and done anything and everything he could to have stopped this from happening, but he didn't. And what hurt the most was looking in his eyes and seeing the cold, darkness of apathy showing that he just didn't care.

So, you've heard my story, now here are my thoughts. Love doesn't exist. Sometimes the truth is so heavily masked with the lie that it can trick you into thinking the lie is real, but the truth is always there, hidden and waiting, ready to creep out from the shadows and seep into your very bones, breaking your soul and destroying your life. The theory of love tricks you into believing that it is real, your lonely hearts and desperate minds turns it into something it is not: Something magical, something special, when really it's all a lie, an everlasting torrent of broken promises and empty words. It is all false hopes. Love is a lie that will tear you to shreds, if it hasn't already done so already, it soon will. There's no escaping its endless chaos and disaster: the only things that love's lie can bring is a broken heart, an aching chest, regrets, remorse and emptiness.

Men who make you cry are not worth your tears or time. They are an arrogant, self-centred species; all they care about is themselves. They take what they want, give nothing back and then run, no matter the consequences for you, or any other member of the female species, as long as it suits them; if they're fine and you're not, tough shit. And what's worse is sometimes they don't even realize it, it's so deeply ingrained in their minimum IQ brains that they think that their behaviour is acceptable; normal, when its not. Men are arses. Don't trust them; all they ever do is lie. Their words are always empty, or filled with disappointment. Their promises are not much better, always broken, why make them in the first place if you're not going to keep them? And, there apologies are worthless too; there is no point in saying sorry if you don't really mean it. They say they'd give you the world, but it's not theirs to give.

They say actions speak louder than words, and I guess it's true. A man actions speak volumes about them, but they all end up breaking you in the end. They always end up abusing in one way or another, whether mentally, emotionally, or physically. Men are the definition of disappointment. It may start out small, but trust me it escalates into something much bigger. Disappointment after disappointment, until eventually you would have cried your heart out so many times, you would have had your heart broken so many times, you would have been hurt and disappointed one too many times, you're left alone and broken on the floor, permanently scarred by love. Because it's the events in our life that define us, and being fractured too many times by love leaves a deep, open wound, never to heal, it changes you and you become a completely different person to who you were, you may not like it, but you can't change back, it's permanent now. You become alone, shattered, unable to trust, unable to feel. Always empty. Always afraid. It's who you are now. Your defining features. All because a man broke you. Love broke you.

So, you looking for Mr Right? Then try under Fiction.


End file.
